The Black Cat
by David Golightly
Summary: A five issue miniseries exploring Felicia Hardy. She's turned over a new leaf, but she's gotten caught in a conspiracy. Should she go to Spidey for help?
1. Chapter 1

_**the black cat**_

CAT'S PAW Part 1 of 3:

"All the Charm in the World"

Written by D. Golightly

"One…two…_three_."

Running at full speed without hesitation, Felicia Hardy reached the end of the rooftop and flung herself into the cool night air. Twenty-seven floors above the streets of Manhattan, Felicia clasped her clawed hand around a thin but resilient cable that stretched, like a silk web, between two buildings.

It warbled slightly as her body weight yanked down on it, but the cable held. It better have for what she paid for it.

Using the momentum from her jump, and the slick coating on her gloves, the cable was transformed into a zip line. She darted across the open channel of air, nearly invisible thanks to the black fabric that tightly wrapped around her curvy body. Within seconds, harrowing seconds to a novice, she reached the opposing building with a gentle tap as her feet touched a large window.

Before proceeding she looked through the window into a large conference room. At one end of the room she saw the eye of a camera, inactive saboteur to her plans, carefully monitoring the concealment of the room.

A major problem for any normal thief. Not for the Black Cat.

Concentrating, the Black Cat focused her attention on the camera. She could almost hear it whir as it pivoted on its mount, sweeping its lone eye across the room. It paused. A wisp of smoke slipped out of its casing. It failed to move again.

"Of all the luck," Felicia purred. "For your security system to go on the fritz the same night you're being robbed."

The ability she possessed was far from being defined. At times she had no idea how to control it, but she knew what she needed to know. It kept her from getting caught. It saved her the trouble of accessing the security system manually, which was possible, but would have required much more time.

The Black Cat was _curious_ by nature, not _patient_. Leave the more complicated jobs to the scrubs without her knack for getting into places. Besides, in a world where a god of thunder roams freely, corporations really should take abilities like hers into account.

The diamond tips of her retracted claws easily sliced through the window. She allowed herself a hole large enough to slip through. She didn't mind leaving evidence of her break-in, especially given what she was going to do tomorrow morning.

The Black Cat slipped into the conference room and strode straight for the large oak desk at the forefront. This was where the boss sat, the man, the big cheese. This was where his secrets were kept.

"Remember to plug in my little toy when you grab the laptop," a voice in her ear told her. "No need to take the entire computer. As if you had a place to hide it on that cat suit of yours."

"You'd be surprised," the Black Cat murmured in reply, not even flinching from the sudden sound of the man's deep voice.

"If you're offering I'll more than take you up on a search of your person."

Felicia smiled. "Focus, Bruno."

"Focus? On a job like this?" She could almost hear him smirking on the other end of the secure audio connection. "This is child's play. Stilt-Man could do this job."

"Stilt-Man didn't used to work for SHIELD," she said. "I expect more professionalism from you."

"That mean I can't hack into the security cameras to check out your ass?"

"They would have to be functioning for that." She used the tip of her claw to pry open the top right drawer in the desk and pulled out a small laptop. "Inserting your 'little toy' now."

"How I've waited to hear those very words," Bruno chuckled.

The computer booted up after she opened the screen, and after a moment, information began to scroll across the display. Bruno, from his location somewhere safe, accessed the satellite card that Felicia had placed into the USB hub. Through whatever bounced and untraceable signal that Bruno conjured, the information Felicia was after would officially be hers, and no longer its current owner's, within seconds.

A few pieces of admirable art hung on the walls, as well as a few choice statues placed on the fringes of the work space. No doubt these were meant to show off the power that their owner held, possibly even at an intimidating level. The object themselves, of course, had no actual power. No, it was the fact that they cost ungodly amounts of money.

And we all know that money, in this chaotic and still quite Croatian society, equals power.

However, these trinkets were of no value to the Black Cat. On any other night, perhaps. Tonight she was after something else entirely.

"Done," Bruno chirped into her ear.

"Good," she replied. "My fingers were starting to itch."

With the grace of a dancer and the stride of a model, the Black Cat returned to the computer, removed the extra component, replaced it within the folds of her costume in a fairly promiscuous place, and stepped back to her point of entry.

The hustling city below her, one would think, would never expect to be so close to a high-rise burglary. But this was New York. At any moment she half expected to look at the building across from her and see another criminal looking back at her.

Was she a criminal anymore? She had been once, and it had been such a…_fun_ time. The rush, the excitement, the control. The Spider.

"Three weeks of jump school," Bruno interrupted, "and I'd still think twice about what you're about to do."

"That's why you're behind a computer," Felicia replied, "and I'm out _enjoying_ life."

With a sly smirk the Black Cat trotted toward the hole she had carved into the window, relaxing her muscles as if she were out for a Sunday jog. Two steps before she would have run directly into the glass, she pounced into the air and dove through the opening.

Once on the other side of the glass, in the open air, she spread her arms and went into a free fall toward the rushing traffic twenty-seven floors below. She would break her fall by casting another zip line from the spring mechanism in her glove, but for a brief moment that would stretch into eternity, she would relish the rapid winds in her face and the feeling of rapture it entailed.

She could barely hear over the onslaught of wind against her ear, but Bruno sighed and said, "One of these days we're going to have to actually meet face to face."

- o -

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Let me make it as clear as possible, Mr. Reed," Felicia said. "If I were actually trying to extort money from you, I would probably be able to get ten million. Easily."

A few passersby didn't make notice of the rather candid conversation. The sidewalk café in uptown New York City had enough pedestrian traffic that Felicia, sans her evening attire, was able to blend right in. As much as a stunning woman in a three-thousand dollar suit can.

Opposite her sat Mr. Reed, a distinguished gentleman in his fifties. He had come to the arranged meeting nearly against his will, as he had preferred to meet back in his office. Given that the two bodyguards behind him that were unsuccessfully blending into the café surroundings were present, he still maintained an air of control. His face did not mark him as an amused man.

Between them on the small, round table was a laptop computer. Displayed on it and facing Mr. Reed was a series of bank account numbers, number he had thought were confidential and private.

Numbers that even the government didn't know about.

"Lucky for you I'm not interested in extortion," Felicia continued just after sipping out of her latte. "You hired me to prove how inept your security precautions were. I think the information on the screen proves I'm good at my job."

"I hired you to check my security," Mr. Reed replied. "_Not_ to snoop around my private networks and _steal_ bank account records."

"Did you expect a typed report? I think this is more effective. I'm not an analyst, Mr. Reed. I'm more of a…troubleshooter."

If Mr. Reed were less of a gentleman he looked like he might have growled.

"I've had my guy e-mail you a list of new precautions you can take so something like this doesn't happen for real," Felicia said. "Take my advice: use them. We wouldn't want Homeland Security taking an unsolicited peak into your Rainy Day Fund, now would we?"

Felicia sipped the last of her latte and stood to leave. Mr. Reed closed the laptop with slightly more force than was necessary, saying, "And what guarantee do I have that you won't be making a repeat performance of last night?"

"Mr. Reed." Felicia leaned down against his shoulder as she stepped behind him. "I'm a _professional_. You can expect my bill in the mail."

Felicia made sure to make eye contact with the two uneasy bodyguards as she left the café. They were the typical muscular, ex-military, chip on the shoulder bodyguards that nearly every business man worth his company stock seemed to have. Can't be too careful in a city full of crazies wearing their pajamas.

Stepping out into the hustle of the city, Felicia disappeared amongst the foot traffic, just in case Mr. Reed didn't appreciate her methods. Few of them did. Ever since she had started her own private security company she had been bouncing around the country, slipping through the cracks at major player's place of operations. She had uncovered more than a few secrets that certain people would do anything to make sure they stayed buried.

That included putting a bullet in the back of her head.

So why do it? She asked herself that all the time, and so did Bruno. Not that he was in any real danger. She had never even seen his face.

As the Black Cat she had walked the line between right and wrong for quite some time, mostly thanks to a certain wall-crawler. As hard as she had tried to keep on his side of that line, she always found herself standing on her tip-toes, peering back over to the other side.

She wanted the thrill, the adventure, and the excitement. She was doing a thing she was good at, but she wasn't necessarily doing a good thing. And it paid well, which helped. She was managing, successfully, to bend the law without breaking it.

Her BlackBerry chirped in her pocket, alerting her to a new e-mail. As she stalked through the concrete jungle of New York City she pulled out the cell phone and opened up the e-mail. It was from Bruno, already offering her a new job to take on.

"That man never sleeps," she muttered.

Cat –

Got this in early yesterday but wanted to finish the current job before I passed it on. I know you don't want to stay in NYC any longer than you have to, but check out $$$ before you say no. There's one half of a mattress waiting for you at my place if you need a place to crash. Client needs to know ASAP.

– B

Felicia opened the attachment in the e-mail and looked over the job offer. Connecting with Bruno through an old SHIELD contact was the best thing she could have done since deciding to enter the private sector. He found clients willing to pay top dollar for her particular skill set, something she couldn't do without exposing herself.

Everything seemed simple enough. It was true that she wanted to get out of town before someone who knew her spotted her. She wasn't exactly sure where she stood with the authorities and it was possible that there was a warrant out for her arrest, or at the very least a subpoena. And the possibility of running into the Spider didn't make her jump for joy at the moment.

But there were an awful lot of zeros hanging on the end of the offer.

She typed a quick response to Bruno, acknowledging acceptance of the offer, but on one condition. It had to be tonight. One last job in the Big Apple before she moved on.

- o -

Unlike Mr. Reed's building, the target in question had a little tighter security. After doing quick surveillance she noted several key things to avoid, the first of which was a laser grid around the windows.

"So much for the old fashioned way," the Black Cat said to herself.

Once more in her black suit, a second skin as she thought of it, Felicia checked over the building face one more time with her binoculars from her vantage point across the street. Her method of arrival would be standard, but her entry point would have to change.

Fine with her. Slight deviations from the norm kept her awake.

She shot her spring-launched zip line across the way, lodging the tip of the claw at the end into the back of the roof access hatch. The concrete there held it firmly in place as she secured her end. She tested the line, making sure it held taut.

Hopping onto the thin line with ease, Felicia took a mere moment to balance herself before she started walking the tightrope. Cars once more blurred beneath her and the winds associated with her elevation sought to push her over.

The grace and speed with which she moved defied her humanity. It was more like a hybrid of woman and beast vaulted across the gap between the buildings, proudly strutting as if trying to attract a mate in the wild jungles of Africa.

Years of intense training with a dash of life or death experience had made sure that the Black Cat could handle herself. No amount of background noise or mild breezes would cause her to pause. She hopped down onto the target roof and got her bearings.

She had learned by doing enough of these types of jobs that the clients that paid the sort of attention to things like hydrogen laser filaments around the window panes often overlooked the simpler entry points. Like the roof access hatch. After all, why would a thief qualified to overcome his expensive security measures simply walk right through the back door?

Felicia glanced over the electronic lock clamping the door shut. An E-X-230. Very nice. Not as nice as the laser grid setup, but still pretty posh. It was near top of the line, but nothing was foolproof. She wouldn't exactly be able to pick an E-X-230, but she wouldn't even have to try.

"Feel like going down memory lane?" she said.

Bruno, who was listening in via ear piece, chuckled. "Only when I'm driving. What you got?"

"Remember Belgium?"

"An Emplate Xeno model?" Bruno replied, obvious interest perking up in his voice. "Not the same one, is it?"

"Yep."

"Lucky you. Those are fun. Thirty-thousand possible sequences to unlock it. You should check out the 250 model. It's a piece of art."

Felicia smirked. "You going to run me through the override sequence or not? I don't have all night to wait while you stimulate yourself over this."

"You tell me the custom number set flashing and I'll be able to run you through it, no problem. I ever tell you I bumped into the guy that designed the Xeno? He was brought in for a consultation on Fury's helicarrier. Nice guy."

Ten keys were embedded into the faceplate of the electronic lock keeping her out of the building. Above the keys a seemingly random set of red numbers were flashing by, all interchanging with one another. What most novices didn't know, but what Bruno had taught her, was that the numbers weren't random. Not all of them anyway. The last digit in every third set showed a number combination that the owner had coded into the device. It was sort of like a serial number that the owner wrote himself.

Once Felicia counted off the sets and provided the last digit in the correct sets to Bruno, he was able to extrapolate the owner's emergency override sequence. It was a simple software glitch but it was a huge hole in basic security.

"Make a note," the Black Cat said as she opened the door. "Tell the client to get better locks when this is all done."

Bruno remained silent now that she didn't need him. For as much as he joked with her, he was a professional, too. He didn't want to distract her, especially since her success ensured his paycheck.

Before leaving the roof behind she checked her zip line. She wouldn't be skydiving tonight since it was faster and more efficient to walk back across the first line. Getting the job done quickly and efficiently was all she cared about tonight; no showboating.

The end buried into the concrete of the roof access hatch was as secure as ever. She traced the line through the air to its other holding point and paused in stunned silence.

It might have been a trick of the light, but she could have sworn that she saw a shadow move on the other roof. Was someone watching her?

Sudden paranoia struck her. She had half a mind to turn tail and run. Bruno would be pissed, but he would get over it. The majority of the costume nightcrawlers could be within blocks of her, or worse. A rival looking to cash in on the same prize she was looking to invade.

The door was already open. She was three-fourths of the way done. All she had to do was get proof that she was here and she could go home. She wondered what kind of secrets she could uncover inside…

Curiosity was something that could always persuade her to continue.

Slipping down the stairwell, the Black Cat quickly moved down two floors and through another door into a large room. Instead of a conference room this time she found herself in the back of a cubical area. The chest-high gray walls formed sections of work areas that served as pens for employees.

There was a computer in every cubical providing a way for her to gather information. She removed Bruno's little toy from its hiding place and moved toward the closest terminal. Thirty seconds was all she needed.

"It does seem to be my lucky night."

The loud, accented voice alarmed her. She homed in on it immediately, seeing a tall gentleman on the far side of the room looking directly at her. He wore a trench coat and balanced a staff on his shoulders like he knew how to use it. His hair was long and hanging and his eyes were piercing.

"It look like you an' me, we both got something in common, eh? A thieve know a thieve. But you wouldn't be here unless it's for the same reason as me. That mean you know somethin'. And I be needin' to know what it is you know."

The Black Cat weighed her options. The door to the stairwell was still open behind her, but she needed a better gauge of what this guy was capable of before she made any sudden moves.

She started concentrating, subtly allowing her special ability seep out into the room. With a little bit of focus she could hopefully create a distraction that would make it easier for her to get away clear. She hadn't been hired to take on rivals. It looked like the security in this place was already beyond her help.

"Cat got your tongue, _cher_?" the man said as his eyes began to glow a soft red hue. "Maybe ol' Gambit be able to loosen it for you, eh?"

- o -

**to be continued**


	2. Chapter 2

_**the black cat**_

CAT'S PAW Part 2 of 3:

"From One Thief to Another"

Written by D. Golightly

"Cat got your tongue, _cher_?" the man said as his eyes began to glow a soft red hue. "Maybe ol' Gambit be able to loosen it for you, eh?"

Felicia had heard of this guy. Was he a mutant? Possibly, the way his eyes glowed like that. He balanced his staff on the back of his shoulders like he knew how to use it. The name Gambit, in her line of work, was spread throughout various rumors in the circles she traveled in.

The fact that he had already broken into the building that she was hired to check out, and she hadn't even realized it until he let her see him, meant that he was good. Maybe better than her.

He looked like he was itching for a fight. The Black Cat, while capable of taking care of herself, wasn't interested. She had already stayed in New York City longer than she cared to, and she hadn't taken on the job tonight so she could get caught up in someone else's business.

Which was why she had let her special little ability seep out into the room.

Felicia had never really been able to define the 'back luck power' that she used to her benefit in the field. It wasn't something she could outright control, as it functioned more like a guardian angel looking over her shoulder than an active ability. It was difficult to predict what damage it might cause.

Gambit stood next to a grouping of cubicles, where several of the desk lamps illuminated the small work areas. He smirked and took a few steps toward her, swinging the staff off of his shoulders and gripping it tightly in his hand.

"I think we best start with your name," Gambit said. "A girl lookin' like you ought to have a real smooth name that just rolls off de tongue."

One of the light bulbs in a desk lamp next to him suddenly flashed bright and then exploded. The Black Cat smiled and took advantage of the distraction, ducking back into the stairwell she had entered through.

It wasn't that far to the rooftop. From there she could hop back on to her zip line and waltz across to freedom. Bruno, her handler, would be upset with her for reneging on the job, but he would get over it. Her employer for the evening would understand once he discovered that someone else had broken into his place.

She wasn't a _mercenary_. She was a _professional_. And professionals knew when they were being tossed into something that they could, and should, avoid.

She ran up the first flight of stairs and, deciding that wasn't fast enough, pounced on top of the railing in order scale the inside of the stairwell.

"Don't run, _cher_!" she heard Gambit call from below her. "You'll hurt ol' Gambit's feelings!"

There was a fizzle and a flash of pink light. On instinct, Felicia leapt off of the railing she stood balanced on and flung herself to the adjacent one. Just as her feet left the railing it was engulfed in pink energy. She looked over her shoulder just long enough to see the tale of some projectile dissolving the metal railing.

Several more fizzles, accompanied by the now familiar pink light, came from underneath her. She moved, not bothering to pause for a foothold. She used her momentum to keep her moving up the stairwell, bounding in the central open space by pushing off the railings.

Three more railings had holes punched in them before she shot out through the roof access hatch and back onto the top of the building. Directly overhead was her zip line, which she had used to walk over like a tight rope.

She jumped up, grabbed the steady line, and swung her feet up over it. Her near perfect balance kept her from falling over as she stood up on the zip line like it was no more difficult than getting out of the bed in the morning. Carefully, she trotted down the line until she was out over the busy city street below.

Glancing down, she held no fear for falling to her death. There wasn't time to be afraid.

"Looks, moves, and style to match," Gambit said as he ran to the edge of the rooftop. "_Cher_, I think I'm in love."

"Aren't we all?" the Black Cat replied casually.

With a flex of her fingers one tip of her titanium claws hidden within her gloves popped out. She sliced the finger down and severed the zip line behind her. Falling immediately, she wrapped her other arm around the cable and held on tightly.

The end she held on to was still connected securely to the roof of the other building. Physics, combined with a healthy dose of gravity, pulled her away from Gambit and away from danger.

She winked at him as she fell away, but the mysterious Cajun had already vanished.

The other building was coming up fast and she didn't have time to wonder about where he had gotten to. She raised her arm, keeping it as steady as possible given that she was now hurtling toward a solid concrete wall, and triggered the spring loaded zip line in her gauntlet.

The line shot out, and the stubbed claw at the end of it pierced the façade of the next building over. She released the first line and let all of her weight fall on the second as she swung to the alley joining the two buildings.

Once clear of the street she let go of the other line and softly dropped down onto the fire escape. The metal gently clanged as her white boots tapped down. She yanked the ladder above her down and started to climb.

The cool night air did a lot to alleviate her anxiety. What was Gambit doing there? Why had he said something about them being there for the same reason?

She got to the roof and started trotting away from the scene, leaving it behind her in earnest. Once she was a safe distance she would open the channel to Bruno again and give him the bad news. She rounded the corner of an antenna array and got ready to leap over to the next building.

"Tsk, tsk. And here I thought we were getting' along so nicely."

She stopped cold and her heart leapt into her throat. Either this mysterious admirer was really fast, or he was a ghost.

Gambit casually leaned against the lip of the building, his staff once more balanced on his shoulders. He smiled at her, the kind of smile that a confident man gives a pretty young blonde at the end of the bar.

He withdrew something from inside his trench coat and held it up for her to see. It was a playing card, the Queen of Hearts. "How's about we play a hand, _cher_?"

She feinted to one side and then vaulted the other way, swinging behind the antenna array for a semblance of cover. Gambit's eyes turned color again, as did the playing card. That same fizzle sound reached her ears and he threw the card directly at her.

The antennas melted from the hot energy that Gambit had chucked at them. Felicia tucked into a roll and sprung away to find new cover behind a chimney stack. She found herself thanking the landlord for not choosing to remove the Victorian era chimney in favor of more modern heat. Sometimes Manhattan socialites enjoyed a brisk fire in their apartments.

"We can end dis cat and mouse game anytime you like," she heard Gambit say. "I just want to talk! Maybe…over drinks?"

"Sorry," she said as she sprung out from behind the chimney, "I'm taken."

Gambit had drawn closer as he talked, giving her the perfect angle to strike. She whirled her feet threw the air, lashing out with deadly kicks. He slipped his staff off of his shoulders and blocked most of the strikes, but one vicious snap kick managed to get by him. She connected with his ribs and she heard one of them crack.

If he was in pain, he didn't show it.

"Easy, _cher_!" Gambit said as he backpedaled. He raised his arms in mock surrender. "Maybe we just try talkin', eh?"

"Do you always talk to girls by throwing energy blasts at them?"

Gambit smirked. "You'd be surprised how many dates o' mine have ended that way."

The Black Cat returned the smile. She took a few steps back, keeping her distance. "Alright, pretty boy. Start talking."

"Why you poking around the Steele building?"

"I was hired to check their security. Your turn."

"Friend of mine was murdered. Trail led to Steele. He the man that hired you?"

"Maybe."

Gambit let out a slow whistle. "That maybe gonna get you in a heap o' trouble. Especially since I think you been lied to."

"And why would you think that?"

Slowly, Gambit removed an envelope from inside his coat pocket. He winked at the Black Cat and offered the envelope to her. She hesitated, unsure if this was a trick or not. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, as had been par for the course already this evening, she reached out and snatched it.

She removed several pieces of paper. On the paper were written instructions for obtaining specific pieces of information from the computer systems in the Steele building. At the end of the instructions was a dollar amount to be paid upon completion of the job.

It was the exact same dollar amount that Felicia had been offered.

Moreover, it was the exact same set of instructions that Felicia had been sent through Bruno.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded.

"With my friend's belongings. They were sent to me after his body washed up in the Hudson. He and I, we were what you might call kin."

"You friends with a lot of thieves?"

The smile that was quickly becoming Gambit's trademark returned. "More than you think, _cher_. My friend, he's skilled. He takes this job and he winds up dead. I do a little sniffing around and I think I found out why."

Felicia's ears perked. Bruno was very thorough in his investigations into clients. She had specified several things when he was scouting for her, the top two of which were avoiding government contracts and staying away from the guys who couldn't pay. The last thing she needed was to be stiffed on a bill.

If Bruno hadn't found anything fishy about this job, then there probably wasn't any dirt to dig up. Still…could Bruno be scamming her somehow? She barely knew him and had never actually seen him. How much had she trusted him?

"This guy that owns the building?" Gambit continued. "Imagine my surprise when it turns out he's not the guy that hired my friend."

"That's a pretty big discovery," the Black Cat replied. "Mind telling me how you made it?"

"The paper trail. My friend demanded a retainer for his services, just as Gambit taught him. Never take a job without something to wet the whistle, _cher_. See, my friend is hired to validate security there, but the account that paid him doesn't match the account that paid the electricity bill last month."

"Corporations have dozens of accounts for different things."

"True. But different routing numbers? And across state lines, no less."

He was right. A corporation might have one account for paying utilities and another account for paying consultants (which was what Felicia considered herself), but the routing numbers would still be the same. There wouldn't be a point to using a different bank for mundane transactions like those. In fact, it would probably pop up a red flag with the IRS.

Gambit recognized the look on her face and said, "That's right. You got played."

The Cajun spun his staff in his fingers. She felt his eyes on her. For as smooth as he acted, there was a deadly man standing in front of her that would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He had proven that when he chased her down after she thought she had lost him.

She stepped closer to him and returned his devilish smile. She came close enough to draw her finger up his chest, resting the tip of her glove on his chin. "I like to play," she said. "About that drink you mentioned…"

"I think ol' Gambit can still go for a nightcap. What you got in mind, _cher_?"

The Black Cat drove her knee straight into Gambit's groin. He doubled over and the breath in his lungs exploded out. She slammed her elbow into his face and he fell back against the lip of the rooftop. He didn't get back up.

"Answers," she purred.

She had been set up. The only man that could tell her why was hiding behind his computer. It was time her and Bruno met face to face.

- o -

"Report."

He clung to the shadows, but made sure to stay at an angle that he could see everything transpire. The female was quick. So was the male. Nothing compared to himself, but few could move with his grace and speed.

He tapped the ear piece he wore and said, "She's left. Unable to verify if she retrieved the data or not. Someone inside scared her off."

"Who?" the man on the other end of the connection demanded.

"Unknown. Instructions?"

The other man sighed. "Kill the informant. If she suspects something then he's outlived his usefulness."

He pulled in a deep and long breath through his nostrils. He could smell her, even from a block away. He would remember that scent. He was sure he would come across it again in the very near future.

- o -

Bruno Kreah had been a low-level SHIELD operative eight years ago. He had worked in special forces and been drafted into the intelligence community after displaying aptitudes in computer infiltration and logarithmic simulation. He had boasted to her one night that Nick Fury himself had been the one to talk him into joining up with SHIELD. She had her doubts, but his skills were obvious.

After finishing his two contracts with SHIELD he had gone into the private sector. They had stumbled across each other in Budapest while Felicia was on a job that involved a visiting sheik's collection of tapestries. Bruno had been operating the secure online auction while Felicia was making off with the tapestries.

Liking what he saw on the video feeds, Bruno had contacted her shortly thereafter and offered his services. Felicia took him up on it, since being in the field and trying to make contacts with potential clients at the same time was a bit draining.

They made a great team. Until now.

Bruno had constantly offered her the casual abode he operated out of in New York City. When her travels had brought her here she thought it was a ploy to get her into bed. Now that the newest job had turned out to have a few holes in it, she was sure there was an ulterior motive wrapped up in the plot somewhere.

The only that could point it out was Bruno, which meant the Black Cat would be making an unscheduled visit.

Felicia slipped into the apartment without making a sound. Surprisingly, for someone who had precise knowledge about security features, his were quite lax. Only a basic magnetic brace kept his windows locked tight, and she could get through those in her sleep. She had her doubts about the address being legit, but upon entering she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

The place was a wreck. Furniture was overturned, books scattered on the floor, papers everywhere. But that wasn't what gave her concern.

Etched throughout the wood shelves, the couch cushions, and sections of the wall were claw marks. Long, deep claw marks.

She heard a soft gurgling noise come from the hallway. She edged around the room, careful not to touch anything unnecessarily, and peered around the corner. The small bathroom was coated in white tile, and the white tile was coated in red blood.

In the center of the bathroom, lying on his stomach, was a man with short, brown hair. He wore glasses. From speaking with him she knew that Bruno wore glasses. Was this him?

She didn't bother to ask, as the man who had thrashed the room beyond recognition was crouched in the windowsill. His eyes were golden and the irises were sharp slits instead of rounded ovals. His ears came to points and his teeth looked like they could tear through a porterhouse steak in one bite. His hands were covered in the same color red as the white tile.

Despite the bizarre differences in his anatomy from a normal man, what she was focused on the most was his fur. His entire body was covered in it.

The creature turned away from the window, as he was apparently ready to leap away. He breathed in deeply through his nostrils, almost like he was taking in her scent. He growled, a harsh, guttural growl that had no place in the city.

"Thank you for saving me the trouble of tracking you," he said. "I'll make this quick."

The Black Cat braced herself. Something clicked in her head and she recognized the man-beast that was about to lunge for her throat and tear it out with his fangs. The Spider had talked about him, described him exactly as she saw him now.

His name was Thomas Fireheart.

Some knew him better as the vicious Puma.

- o -

**to be concluded**


	3. Chapter 3

_**the black cat**_

CAT'S PAW Part 3 of 3:

"Boss Problems"

Written by D. Golightly

The guttural growl coming from the assassin was almost enough to make her scream.

Lying in a pool of his own blood on the bathroom floor was Bruno Kreah, a retired low-level tech guy from SHIELD that had been the Black Cat's recent handler. She could see scalp lacerations, missing teeth, and a large hole in his side where something had dug in and ripped out.

Crouching in the windowsill was his killer, as well as the source of the growl. His narrow eyes were slits and blood had stained his claws. His matted fur covered most of his body, distinguishing him from other killers.

He was known in come circles as the Puma, and he ran along the thin line that separated heroes from villains. Sort of like Felicia.

One thing was for sure: the way the Puma was sizing her up, he wasn't a hero tonight.

The subtle growl turned into a roar as the Puma threw himself across the room at her, leading the way with his razor sharp claws. He slashed at empty air as she just barely moved out of his reach and backpedaled into the hallway. She slammed the door shut, buying herself a half second.

She must have gotten there only seconds after Bruno had been killed. Ironically enough she had been on her way to confront him, thinking that he had set her up. Maybe if she had spent a little less time going through the paces with Gambit…

No, she didn't have time to chastise herself right now. Improvisation was the key to being a good thief, and it would seem that fate deemed it necessary for a refresher course in the concept.

A fur-covered hand punched through the wooden door, tearing it in half. The Puma was coming through, whether Felicia wanted him to or not. She had to focus. Had to concentrate. Keep her head in the game.

From what she knew about the Puma, he had the advantage over her in both speed and strength. His powers made him more of a cat than she ever would be. That meant she had to be smart. She couldn't take him on one-on-one. It would be suicide.

Of course…being smart didn't necessarily rule out _cheating_.

The Puma finished turning the door into splinters and he leapt into the hallway. He faced her, getting down on all fours like the animal that he was. He flashed his teeth and she suddenly felt very alone and very vulnerable.

She was sure that she had seen him earlier that night, just before she had entered a building she thought she had been hired to test the security in. She quickly recalled the fluid grace with which a shadow had moved from far away. The Puma had been tracking her before coming here.

He pounced at her again, this time spinning in midair and driving his foot for her throat. Even though he was beastly on the outside, apparently there was still a human man in the driver's seat. The roundhouse kick was perfectly executed, and if the Black Cat was someone who hadn't undergone extensive training, it might have killed her.

She blocked the kick with her forearm and returned the strike with one of her own. Flicking her fingers, her own claws popped out of the tips of her gloves. She slashed down on the leg before it slid down her forearm, creating three long gashes that ran with fresh blood.

He snarled, sweeping at her with wild strikes. She blocked most of them but several got through her defenses. Her black leather suit was torn along her side and her thigh, exposing naked flesh. She wouldn't last much longer like this.

She somersaulted over the couch in the living room and the Puma followed around the side. She was in the open space of the room while his back was to the wall.

Or, more appropriately, the window.

The Black Cat's innate ability to have the worst things happen at the best possible time wasn't something she could always control. Mainly, it could fry an electronic lock when she needed it opened, or burst a light bulb when she needed darkness. Right now, with a bit of concentration on her part, she could will her 'bad luck power' to give her an edge in this fight.

The sprinkler system suddenly went off, causing a fire alarm to sound that was nearly deafening. The cold water soaking them, coupled with the disorientation of the fire alarm, caused the Puma to hesitate in delivering a killing stroke for a split second.

That was all the time the Black Cat needed. She rushed him and put all of her weight into pushing him through the window. The glass shattered and he went sailing out into the night.

"Got you, bastard," she huffed.

She couldn't waste any time to make sure the Puma was dead. A man like that didn't get the reputation he had by letting such a mundane act keep him down for long. The Black Cat raced back across the apartment and into the bathroom. She knelt beside Bruno and lifted his head.

The shear amount of blood on the floor amazed her. She didn't think someone could bleed like that.

"C'mon…c'mon…" she muttered.

Bruno coughed, spewing a mouthful of blood and saliva into her lap. She flinched but held him closer. "H-hey there, babe," he managed to say. "It's about time you s-showed up."

"Save your strength," she said. "I need to get you out of here."

Bruno leaned over and spat out another mouthful of blood. It mixed with the pool already coagulating under him. "Not gonna happen. Barely breath. Listen."

His voice was barely above a whisper. She leaned closer to his mouth so that he wouldn't have to raise his voice.

"Sorry about set up," he muttered. "Got me, too. Ugly cat guy came to tie up loose end. Should have f-figured it out."

"It's not your fault."

He shook his head slightly. "Listen. Got a name."

Felicia's eyes widened. Up until now she had no idea who was pulling her strings. The Puma was one of the top mercenaries in the world, but he didn't come cheap and he wasn't a mastermind. Someone had aimed him and metaphorically pulled the trigger.

"Who?" she asked, the eagerness pouring through his voice.

"Silvermane."

Silvio Manfredi. One of the underworld's biggest and most powerful bosses. This was bad. Very bad. His street name, Silvermane, came from the bionic exoskeleton he was encased in. He had clout, and a lot of it, with all of the crime syndicates that operated in New York City.

He was dangerous, both physically and influentially. She knew because she had worked for him once or twice during her more adventurous and cavalier days.

"How did—"

Bruno shook his head again, saying, "Overheard the Cajun. Poked around. Puma confirmed it. He was last seen at Silvermane's business."

Gambit had shown her evidence of a paper trail that proved a friend of his had been set up just like she had. He had paid for it with his life. Now it looked like she was dead set on the same course.

She wrapped her arms under his shoulder. "Come on," she said. "Puma will be back. We need to leave now."

"Sorry, babe. Last op for me. Least…I g-got to see your ass in person."

She ignored him and started to pick him up. The little amount of movement he had stopped when she was halfway up on one knee. He went totally slack in her arms and she knew that he was dead.

As much as it pained her, she had to put him back down and get moving. The Puma was probably on his way back to the apartment already. She couldn't be here when he returned. She had gotten the drop on him once; it wouldn't happen again.

Regrettably, she stepped over Bruno's corpse and hopped into the same bathroom windowsill that the Puma has been perched in when she arrived. She flexed her wrist and the spring loaded grapple hidden in her glove shot across the street. It lodged itself and she pulled the line taught, and then swung away to safety.

Several buildings later, she dropped down into an alleyway and moved for a manhole cover. The rooftops hadn't been the best place to get lost tonight. She would have to change tactics. The smell hit her like a train after she removed the manhole cover, but she held her breath and jumped in.

Sloshing through the tunnel, sure that her scent would be masked from the Puma down here amongst the waste and refuse, Felicia collected her thoughts.

Why was she targeted for this little job? What was it about her that made Silvermane pay attention? Was she in over her head? Should she just call it quits and leave town while she could?

She thought of the one man in New York City she trusted, but scratched the idea of going to him for help. The Spider didn't always see her side of the story, and she didn't want to put up with a lecture about responsibility from him right now. Besides, if she was going to get out on her own she needed to take care of her own problems.

That meant heading to the source of her problems.

- o -

Silvio Manfredi, for all intents and purposes, was an honest business man. He had been caught red-handed by both Spider-Man and Daredevil, but the charges had never stuck. They seldom did when vigilantes were involved. Lack of evidence coupled with illegal investigations meant that men like Silvermane had a decent chance of avoiding serious jail time.

He owned a corporate complex uptown called Silver Plaza. He leased business space to legitimate companies, meaning that he had a working front for his operations, as well as a shield from the authorities.

Her contacts in the underworld still knew what the real deal was with Silver Plaza. A few quick phone calls to verify, and the Black Cat knew exactly where Silvermane called home.

No fortress was impregnable. That was a rule she lived by. The trick to being a good thief was gaining entrance without gaining suspicion. Once you were inside the rest of the job was typically a cakewalk. Silver Plaza, while impressive, was not nearly the most fortified location she had come upon in her career.

The loading dock had a blind spot. Surveillance cameras lined the perimeter, but the gardener had neglected a dogwood enough that it had grown over part of the line of sight for the dock. There was no doubt that toward the end of summer the dogwood would bloom and look striking in the evening light, but if Manfredi had paid more attention to his security he would have realized the problem.

The Black Cat clung to the shadows until the right moment. Crouched beneath the lip of the loading dock, the closer of two cameras swung away from her, giving her the window she needed. With one camera pointed in the wrong direction, and the other blocked by the growth of the dogwood, she easily slipped onto the platform and into the building.

Once inside she located the freight elevator. Removing the light fixture cover inside the elevator car, she grappled up the cable until she reached the top floor that the shaft reached.

She pulled open the exhaust vent inside the elevator shaft and crawled inside. Her black suit was now covered in dust and cobwebs, but that was the price one paid for this sort of work.

Silvermane, and those like him, was the sort to keep his office on the top floor of the building. It was about the power. He was the kind of man that wanted to keep his subordinates directly underneath him, both literally and figuratively.

The air vent allowed her access to an employee break room on the tenth floor. It had been a hard climb, but the silent fury inside her gave her all the energy she needed. This late, the floor was empty. Whatever company Silvermane had leased the office space to had been long gone by the time she strolled through the lobby.

She had come this far. The lobby elevator was waiting in front of her. Typically, she preferred to move about undetected. A good job was finished when she got in and out without being spotted. Now, she _wanted_ to be seen. She wanted Silvermane to know that she was coming for him. She was already halfway up his complex. He couldn't just send the troops down to usher her politely outside. This far in, he would be forced to deal with her face to face.

Thus, Felicia pressed the up button on the elevator and waited.

The doors opened with a soft 'ching' and she stepped inside. She pressed the button for the penthouse suite and waited again.

The adrenaline was building. She almost felt light-headed. Silvermane was as dangerous as they come, and she was going to simply walk right up to him.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened. She stepped out.

The room was huge, taking up most of the floor space. It was completely dark, save for one lone light casting a halo around the far end of the room. A desk, wooden and old. Behind it, the man she had come to see about a problem.

"Is this where I mutter some ridiculous sentiment about curiosity and what it did to the cat?" Silvio Manfredi asked. "Or should we skip the banter and move directly to the more important matters."

The rumors were true. Silvio Manfredi had made a deal with the devil and placed his vital organs inside a suit of technological armor. His face poked through the stainless steel skin of his cybernetic body, but otherwise the real him was completely encased.

The Black Cat took a few steps toward Silvermane, the anger inside her seething and ready to boil over. She flexed her fingers and out sprung the hidden tips of her claws, ready to flash out and cut the only portion of flesh she could see on the man.

Something behind her stirred. She turned, but she was too late. Felicia felt strong arms wrap around her torso and pick her up off the ground. Her arms were trapped at her sides and the breath was being crushed out of her.

The soft touch of fur graced her where her suit had been torn. The low primal growl returned to her ears. The Puma had snared her.

"Don't kill her," Silvermane said as he placed his arms behind his back. It looked wholly odd when that particular stature was taken up by a man that looked more like a robot. "Not yet, at any rate. I have an offer to make her."

"Go to hell," she spat.

He chuckled. "I probably will, if it even exists."

"Why did you kill Bruno?" she demanded. She fought against the Puma's grasp, but to no avail.

"He was merely the middle man, needed to get to you," Silvermane replied. "Nothing more; nothing less. Leaving him alive would be leaving too much of a loose end, one that could come back at me later on. He had to go."

"And me?" Felicia growled.

"You still have use to me. For the moment. I want you to go back to the Steele building and retrieve the specific data I hired you to collect."

"What the hell could be so important?"

"This," he said as he moved the back of his hand down his chest. "The cybernetic suit encasing my elder organs, while once a boon, has become cumbersome. Over the last five years I've discovered that my senses have been dwindling as my mind adjusts and assimilates the cybernetics."

He sighed, as if recalling certain memories that caused him pain. It was then that Felicia saw Silvermane for what he had become: not the intimidating business man or even the estranged supervillain…he was an old man, desperately grasping for life.

"Do you understand what this is like?" Silvermane asked. "You're young. Vibrant. I can no longer taste or smell, and I'm starting to lose my sense of touch as well. This body has become my eternal tomb instead of my fountain of youth."

"So the information you want—"

"Will allow me to retain my humanity as well as the benefit of my cybernetics. Steele has developed software that logs neural synapses, and could possibly be the cure I need. If I can reestablish my synapse behavior then my troubles will be gone."

"Why not just buy out the company if the information is so important?"

"While my public face is intact, my real one is not. Public humiliations by Spider-Man and his ilk have left me with few friends in the underworld. Thus, my resources from that part of the world, and the finances associated with them, have been liquidated."

Felicia barked out a small laugh. She smiled a wide, toothy grin. "You're broke," she said.

The look on Silvermane's face soured. "Hiring you to do the job and then having my little friend here kill you is much more efficient. Not to mention quicker. The legal process can be quite taxing."

"If you're planning on killing me then why would I bother going back to Steele for you?"

"Once I'm back to my former self I'll be able to rebuild my empire. I'll give you more money than you can comprehend…if you agree to stay on as a, shall we say, consultant."

"Is that the same deal you offered the last guy who took this job?"

"Ah," Silvermane said. "That. Yes. Unfortunate. He was lacking…determination. The sort of determination that you have already shown."

The coldness and ease with which Silvermane alluded to the cold-blooded murder of another human being made Felicia's stomach turn. Here was a man that had grown comfortable with despicable acts. He was actually used to ordering the death of another, or organizing some scheme that was driven by vengeance.

This man had ordered the death of Bruno, who had done nothing more than broker what he believed to be a legal transaction.

"So," Silvermane said. "What do you say?"

While a large part of her wanted to tell him what he could do with his job offer, another smaller part disagreed. The lure of wealth dangling in front of her stirred up old memories. Since going legit the thrill hadn't been the same. It was like a part of her was missing.

And it wasn't as if she would be doing something wrong by helping Silvermane. He was an old, sick man that needed help. The information he wanted could save his life.

She opened her mouth to reply.

The large window behind Silverman's desk began to glow a soft, pink hue.

_Fzzzz-BOOM!_

Brick, mortar, and concrete showered the room as Gambit vaulted inside. He swung his staff around his back and jammed the end into Silvermane's face, knocking the crime boss over his desk.

He winked at the Black Cat, saying, "Miss me, _cher_?"

Felicia jammed the top of her head into the Puma's chin, dislodging his arms from around her and sending him stumbling back. Blood poured from his nostrils as she turned and drove her stiletto heal into his abdomen.

The man-beast doubled over, growling. He slashed at her, but she did a series of back flips that took her out of reach.

The Puma followed on all fours, slashing at her as she moved. Several times she felt the wind of his strikes, but she managed to stay out of harm's way.

She came within a dozen feet of Gambit, meaning that she was running out of room fast. The Puma would be on top of her in a heartbeat. She traded a quick glance with the Cajun, who whistled at her as he tossed his staff over.

She caught it and spun, slamming the end into the Puma's skull. She heard something crack, but wasn't sure if it was his head or the metal staff. Either way, the animalistic mercenary hit the floor and didn't get back up.

The Black Cat was breathing heavily. Not only had the stint of exercise taken a toll, but the adrenaline rush had sped up her heart rate. She looked down at the Puma for a moment, making sure that he didn't get back up as soon as she turned her back.

"Mind if I have that back?" Gambit asked as he stepped beside her. "Kind of a keepsake."

She pulled her eyes away and looked at him. His casual swagger and devilish smile made him look more at home in a night club rather than the top floor of a mobster's headquarters.

"Silvermane—" she began to say.

"He ain't getting' up anytime soon, _cher_. Trust ol' Gambit on dat one. The police will have some fun carrying him downstairs."

She gently tossed him back his staff. "You called the cops." she said. "Thought you were a thief."

"A thieve with honor," he replied. "We got to look out for our own, eh?"

"You been following me this whole time?"

"You go 'round wearing a suit like that, and you think I _won't_ be tailin' you?"

- o -

The special detachment of NYPD that dealt with super-criminals forced Silvermane and the Puma into their detention vehicle. The plating was six inches thick, ensuring that only a nuclear strike would be able to get them out once the doors were locked.

The Black Cat stood perched atop the adjacent building, watching the police collect the two criminals. With the evidence that Gambit had provided linking Silvermane to the death of his friend, there was no way that he could avoid jail time now.

It wasn't the perfect way to avenge Bruno's death, but it would have to do.

The Black Cat was going to have to rethink things. Walking the line the way she did wasn't going to cut it. For a moment, back in Silvermane's office, she had hesitated. The answers weren't as clear as they used to be.

The old Felicia Hardy would have taken the money and run. The new one…well, she wasn't so sure. The desire was there, but the determination that Manfredi seemed to register in her was a little loose for her tastes.

In the corner of her eye she caught a red and blue blur swing by. She turned to see a familiar figure move away from her and head for downtown, apparently unaware of what had transpired at Silver Plaza.

Maybe a little serendipity in her life would be nice for a change. She could make her own luck. Change the course of events as she saw fit. Not let someone else call the shots. Be her own person, without a handler or an employer.

She smiled and stepped up on the ledge of the roof to give chase. She raised her arm, launched her zip line…

…and then swung away in the opposite direction.

- o -

**end**


	4. Chapter 4

MARVEL OMEGA PRESENTS

_**the black cat**_

SOLITAIRE Part 1 of 2:

"A Girl's Best Friend"

Written by D. Golightly

_**- AUTHOR'S NOTE – EVENTS OF THIS SERIES TAKE PLACE BEFORE THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #1 -**_

"Do you work for UPS? Because I _know_ I saw you checking out my package."

Felicia Hardy glanced over the top of her sunglasses to stare down the young twenty-something male that had walked over to her beach chair. She had to admit, he was cute, but he reeked of juvenile dysfunction. If he had kept his mouth shut and stopped himself from uttering that ridiculous pick-up line, she might have tossed a glance his way eventually.

However, she had come to the Central Palms Resort in Miami for a specific purpose, and that purpose did not involve getting distracted by unchecked testosterone mixed with the far side of puberty. She had also chosen a specific chair beside the pool to "lounge" in and now this buffoon was blocking her line of sight.

She craned her neck slightly to look around the eager youth and saw that the man she had been watching carefully was now busy paying his tab at the bar on the other side of the pool. He was easy enough to spot with the blazing white three-piece suit he wore, which stood out in the background of barely-covering bathing outfits. He was going to be leaving soon and she had to see where he was headed, which was going to be rather difficult with the presence of her new suitor. She was going to have to make him leave quickly.

Still, why go to Miami at all if you aren't planning on having a little fun? Even if this was a "business" trip for Felicia that didn't mean she had to flick the pest away with anything less than a smile.

Felicia placed one finger on the bridge of her sunglasses, pushing them back into place in front of her eyes. She ran her hand through her silver hair, shaking it out as her fingers trailed between the long strands. She set down her fruity drink and pulled in a deep breath and stretched her arms out, which helped to accentuate her curvy body. Not that she needed the help. Being a world-class thief required her to keep her body in peak condition.

As was her tradition in picking costumes, her swimsuit was also rather scandalous. She found that using her natural feminine appearance helped serve as a distraction when she most needed it, although at the moment that tactic seemed to have backfired. The lime green bikini she had painted on that morning was only drawing a distraction that wouldn't go away without some coercion.

She downed the rest of her umbrella cocktail and handed the glass to the young man, whose eyes had been more than happy to watch her stretch out in such close proximity. "What's your name?" she asked as he took the glass.

"Tommy. What are you drinking?"

"Whatever you're buying." She stood up and allowed her fingertips to grace his forearm. "Surprise me. If I like what I'm putting in my mouth maybe I'll ask for seconds."

The guy's eyes widened and a smile sprung up on his face. "Shit, beautiful, why not just have room service bring us something up to my room now?"

The man in the white suit was leaving the bar in a hurry, weaving in between the dozens of people crowding around the pool. She spotted him heading toward the north elevator bank.

"Are you sure you can handle that?" she asked, lacing her words with hollow promises.

"Let's find out."

Felicia took the glass back out of his hand, set it on the table resting between chairs and picked up her matching green clutch, and slipped her free hand into his. She pulled his arm to follow her, saying, "Maybe I should buzz my friend to come join us, since you're being so generous."

Impossibly, Tommy's eyes widened even more. "Fucking A, beautiful. Give her a buzz."

She led him to the other side of the pool and away from the crowd, toward the north elevator bank. They stepped into the vestibule just as the man in white stepped into an elevator. She yanked on Tommy's arm as she briskly trotted for the closing elevator doors.

"Hold that, please," she called out. The sole occupant of the car stuck his arm out to stop the doors from closing just as Felicia and Tommy came into his view. "Thanks," she said as they stepped in. The man nodded at them and allowed the doors to close.

"What floor?" he asked.

"Seven," Tommy said as he wrapped his arm around Felicia's thin waist. He pulled her tight against his body, not harboring any resignations about grinding certain portions of himself onto her.

Felicia flicked a glance at the buttons beside the door and saw that the man in white had already pressed the button for his own floor. She made note of the number, twelve, and returned her attention back to Tommy.

Tommy leaned in to her and began whispering unimaginative things into Felicia's ear. She giggled, pretending that his words elevated her level of excitement. The more he spoke the more juvenile he came off as. Felicia had heard more creative things for a male and female to do on Animal Planet.

The elevator finally "dinged!" and the door slid open to spit them out on the seventh floor. Tommy and Felicia tumbled out into the hallway, wrapped around each other. Tommy pressed her against the wall and tried to shove his tongue down her throat, but she turned her head and smirked.

"I'm not into public places," she said. "Where's your room?"

"Where's your friend?" he countered.

"A phone call away. Don't make me wait, baby."

He practically tripped over himself as he moved down the hallway, passing up a number of closed doors in the hotel. He ripped a plastic keycard out of his pocket and waved it at her as he backpedaled down the hallway, eyeing her up with what he surely thought was a seductive stare.

She grimaced at him and added a slight amount of focus to her perceptions. In an effort of will, she felt an invisible nothingness click into place just as she had hoped it would, directed at the keycard he waved casually in the air.

He finally stopped at one of the closed doors and shoved his keycard into the slot above the handle. The red light, which was supposed to turn green to allow entry, remained red. He jammed the card into the slot again with the same result, and then a third time. Frustrated he rammed the keyboard into the slot again and again but the door remained locked.

"Shit!" he swore. "What the fuck is wrong with this thing?"

"Bad luck, I guess," Felicia said. "I'll tell you what, baby. Why don't you run down to the front desk, get a new card, and I'll go find my friend. We'll be waiting for you when you get back."

"I got a better idea. How about we head to your room?"

"Because I never bother getting a room of my own," she purred. "My friend and I prefer to rely on the generosity of men like you to let us borrow a bed."

To expedite his leaving, she pressed against him and took the edge of his earlobe in between her full lips. She bit down gently and said, "Hurry or we'll start without you."

Tommy jogged back to the elevator in a rush, even though he had a bit of trouble walking normally for some reason. She huffed and shook her head, wishing that she had a way of reliving her past when it came to men. If she ever did take someone to bed he never measured up to the kind of thrills she had with one particular former lover.

She shook her head, evaporating the memories that were coming to bear at the forefront of her mind. She had more important things to think about right now, like locating the man in white's room on the twelfth floor.

As she walked back to stairwell at the end of the hallway she opened her green clutch bag and removed her BlackBerry smartphone. She opened a custom program that her late associate, Bruno Kreah, had designed for her. It allowed her remote access to the four wireless web cams that she had planted on adjacent buildings to the hotel, each one facing a different side of the north tower.

Going through each camera Felicia set them to zoom in on the twelfth floor of the hotel. With that done she swept down the stairwell to exit the complex and head back to her own hotel on the other side of town. She'd wait until the sun went down before returning to the man in white's hotel room, and she'd spend the time reviewing the web cam recordings to see which twelfth floor window he appeared in, thus revealing the exact location of his room…

…as well as the exact location of the shiny trinket he had stolen.

- o -

Well passed midnight, the Black Cat pranced across the roof of the Central Palms Hotel. Her tight obsidian outfit fit like a second skin, tightly wrapping around her every unexposed crevice. Of course, there wasn't much that was left unexposed. The bits of white fur along a plunging neckline felt soft against her chest, and the cool breeze of Miami night air wiped away any weariness from her face.

Earlier that evening, after the sun had descended and Miami's local nightlife had sprung into action, Felicia had returned to the hotel and placed her own stylistic measures to ensure that she would be undisturbed.

A small sensor placed on the stairwell entrance to the twelfth floor would alert the front desk to a security problem in the basement, more precisely that the electronic lock on the room to the hotel safe had been compromised.

While she had been in the basement a few hours ago, she had no intention of returning there again. The hotel's main safe, where they housed their cash earnings, paper statements, and VIP valuables, was of no interest to her. Not when bigger game was in the vicinity. No, she had only spent a few minutes in the basement near the main circuit breaker, just enough time to plant a small charge in the wiring.

The Black Cat stepped onto the edge of the hotel's roof, peering down at the lobby fifteen floors beneath her. The twin spotlights that graced the front of the building with their all-encompassing beams swept back and forth, illuminating the building for miles. She had the timing of the sweeps down after just a few passes, and there was a small window of opportunity when they first parted for her to repel down between them without being put on display.

Even though she was adept at certain kinds of luck, she decided not to try hers. Not when something so precious was involved in the night's work. Ever since loosing Bruno she had a zero tolerance policy incorporated into her assignments. Everything was calculated. No risks. No chances. Just get the job done without free styling.

She dialed a command into her smartphone which set off the charge she had planted in the basement wiring. Both spotlights suddenly went dark. She slapped a carabineer onto the safety railing on the edge of the hotel roof and leaned forward into the night.

The thin cable that hooked onto her belt at the small of her back stretched out but didn't unwind too quickly. Her own body weight provided the correct amount of pressure to uncoil the cable, allowing her to simply walk straight down the face of the building. Steadily planting one foot in front of the other, the Black Cat casually strolled down to the twelfth floor, hidden by the cover of a dark evening that was no longer broken up by two blinding spotlights.

As soon as she reached the correct window, the window that her web cams had caught the man in white moving behind, she reached behind her back and slid the clasp over the cable to lock it in place and not allow for anymore unwinding. Pivoting in the air, she allowed her feet to point toward the roof so that she hung suspended upside down. She smirked as she caught her reflection in the window. Walking on vertical surfaces and hanging upside down twelve stories above the parking lot were trademarks of someone she had fond memories of.

Shaking away those distracting thoughts, she flicked out her index finger and a single claw stabbed out from her glove. The diamond-tipped claw cut into the double pane glass easily. She traced a small circle in the window, just large enough to allow her arm to pass through, and heard the argon insulating gas hiss as it escaped from between the panes of glass. She set the first piece of glass she had cut out in between the large panes and then cut out the second, placing it beside the first so it wouldn't smash on the ground below.

Hotel windows never opened anymore. It was too big of a liability for the hotel, what with drunken guests deciding to open them for a breath of fresh air and then ending up splattered all over the courtyard. For the novice thief this would prove a problem, with the simple solution being to cut out a large enough entry point for your entire body to fit through.

What separated the novices from the experts, however, were the sensors attached to each window. A relatively new addition by security firms, which she had often suggested when she was working for a client through her own firm, the sensors detected large vibrations in the glass and signaled the rent-a-cops to come investigate a break in.

The Black Cat slid her hand through the small opening, which had been cut delicately enough to not trip the sensors on the glass, and felt for the small electronics on the edges of the window. Her fingers graced one and feeling its shape she determined its make and model. The Kelvot 900. A toy. Bottom of the barrel. She yanked it off the wall and let it drop to the floor, a now worthless piece of equipment.

After feeling around for more sensors she cut another hole in the glass, this one big enough for her to slip through. Within a few seconds she was standing inside the hotel room of the man in white and disconnecting her support cable.

The room was spacious. One king size bed. A desk. A lounge chair. The typical hotel furniture. The man in white had apparently traveled light, with only a single carry-on size suitcase sitting on the bed, opened to reveal a few changes of clothes.

The Black Cat slid open the closet door to reveal a hanging white three piece suit, confirming that this was his room. Beside the suit was a shelf in the closet that supported the complimentary digital safe.

"He couldn't possibly be that stupid," Felicia muttered as she ran her fingers over the touchpad of the safe.

Like the window sensors, this closet safe was definitely bottom of the line. In her trade safes like this were referred to as a mulligan, because they were a nice amateur attempt but they might as well not even count. She typed in the factory override sequence and the safe door clicked open. Lazy hotel guests were forever forgetting their personal codes and the staff would have to unlock the safes for them using the override code.

She swung the door open and looked into the safe and couldn't help but laugh. Sitting in the center of the small closet safe was the prize she sought: a flawless five karat diamond that had the highest grade clarity a diamond possibly could. It had been stolen from the home of a wealthy oil magnate two days ago by the man in white and was worth just over six million dollars.

Few things could capture the complete attention of the Black Cat like a gorgeous solitaire diamond.

She had obviously seriously over-estimated the man in white. He had been simple enough to track down and he didn't even bother using adequate security to protect what he had stolen. All the precautions she had taken earlier in the day seemed like wasted time now, when apparently all she had to do was waltz in and pluck it out of his hand.

That idea suddenly made her very cautious. The trimmings of a well-laid trap were all around her. She grabbed the diamond and implemented her exit strategy. Entering the hallway a pair of drunken frat boys at the far end of the hall paused upon seeing her. Usually she didn't want to appear in a public, well-lit place like this when in costume, but her exit strategy had been designed when thinking the man in white was formidable. Doing something out of character would be her best bet at escaping. She winked at them, never one to pass up a flirty moment, and ran as fast as she could for the stairwell.

She kicked the door open, which in turn activated the sensor there that she had placed earlier that day. The silent alarm went off over a dozen floors below her in the basement, specifically alerting security that the main hotel safe had been cracked.

Reaching behind her back, she yanked out the cable line, attached a new carabineer, and slapped it onto the stairwell railing. Without hesitation she stepped onto the railing and jumped straight down the center of the winding stairwell, falling gracefully down twelve flights of stairs. The steps whirled up around her as she descended like a spiraling storm of concrete.

Once she hit the bottom she would disconnect the cable and flee through the fire exit where her motorcycle was waiting. The onramp to the freeway was only two blocks away, which she would be up and on way before the scrambling rent-a-cops inside the hotel had realized that the main safe was still locked securely.

Her sensor would ensure that no patrolling security guard would catch sight of her as she fled. They would discover her actual break in just as soon as the man in white did, but by that point she would be miles away, enjoying her new acquisition.

While she had promised the Spider a long time ago that she would be a good little girl and not steal anymore, she didn't think that stealing from a thief really counted.

- o -

The man in white had been furiously screaming into his cell phone for over an hour. The open closet safe had remained in the corner of his eye since returning to his room. After the initial panic he had noticed the large hole cut into his window and the dangling cable hanging just outside of it.

He couldn't believe it. How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn't he just gone on to San Francisco for the drop like he was supposed to? Why did he have to try and get laid in Miami instead of focusing on the job?

His employer was going to kill him. That was all there was to it. The man who had hired him to steal the Rumboldi diamond was going to have him murdered in the most painful way possible. He had been given specific instructions to retrieve the diamond and deliver it to him personally in San Francisco the day after tomorrow. He was told not to tell anyone of his assignment and to be extremely careful.

Of course, once the man in white had scoped the oil magnate's home and determined that the job was way over his head, he had broken the rule of secrecy. He figured what harm could there be if he outsourced the job? Apparently a lot.

For the last hour he had been digging through his contacts trying to get a hold of the man he had hired to steal the diamond for him. It was the insistence of the thief he had hired that they not speak for at least a month after the job was done and the man in white was having a difficult time getting passed that.

Finally, after the third message service had been contacted, his call waiting beeped. He glanced at the number, seeing it labeled as "unknown" and prayed that it was the man he was trying to reach. He switched lines and said, "This is Bertoni."

"Richard Bertoni," a smooth voice on the other end of the phone replied. "I thought I was pretty clear that we not speak for a month. Now I'm getting a flood of messages coming in from you from my various contact points. I have to say, Bertoni, I'm disappointed."

"Fuck your disappointment," Bertoni, the man in white, spat back. "We've got problems."

"We? I did my end of the job. The only problem 'we' will have is if your check bounces."

"I…I lost it."

Silence blared on the other end of the phone connection.

"Did you hear me?" Bertoni snapped. "Are you fucking getting this? I lost the goddamn rock, man! Someone stole it out of my goddamn hotel room!"

"I hear you," the smooth voice responded. "I'm still just not clear on why this is my problem. You hired me to steal the diamond because you couldn't do it yourself, and now you've lost it before you could deliver it to the man that hired you. I did my job and our contract is over."

"You can't just leave me like this. You have to help me here."

"Motherfucker, let's get one thing abundantly clear. I don't have to do anything. Your own fucking incompetence got you in this mess. Now, if you need a little help getting the diamond back then maybe we can work out a new deal. For the right price."

"How much?" Bertoni asked.

"Double what you paid me to grab the rock the first time around should cover it. If I have to steal the shit twice then it costs twice as much. And no cash on delivery this time, either. This is strictly pay or play. You cough up what you owe me even if I don't deliver."

Bertoni opened his mouth, but hesitated. He had already wiped out his own accounts to hire the thief, confident in the fact that his big payday was coming once he dropped off the diamond in San Francisco. He was getting in deeper and deeper as the night went on.

But what choice did he really have?

"Okay…okay," Bertoni muttered. "How soon can you get here, Slyde?"

"I'll get there soon enough. I didn't leave Miami yet, lucky for you. Don't touch anything until I get there, understood? In fact, you're better off going down to the bar and waiting for me."

The line went dead and Bertoni stared at his phone. When he had asked around for a thief that was the best of the best, he had been pointed at Slyde by multiple people. The guy brought new meaning to the term "smooth criminal." He had gone up against Spider-Man, Daredevil, and several other costumed nutcases. Bertoni's confidence in Slyde was as high as it could get, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

After all, if Slyde couldn't track down the person who had ripped him off he was pretty confident Slyde himself would leave nothing left for his employer to find once he realized that Bertoni was broke.

Bertoni clapped his cell phone shut and headed for the bar. He needed a hell of a drink to get through this night.

- o -

**to be continued**


	5. Chapter 5

MARVEL OMEGA PRESENTS

_**the black cat**_

SOLITAIRE Part 2 of 2:

"Slide into the Night"

Written by D. Golightly

_**- AUTHOR'S NOTE – EVENTS OF THIS SERIES TAKE PLACE BEFORE THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #1 -**_

"Un-fucking-believable."

The man known as Slyde looked around the hotel room. It was empty, save for a pristine white suit hanging in the closet and an overturned suitcase on the bed. He shook his head slightly in disapproval. The suit belonged to the man that had originally hired him to steal a priceless diamond, who was now drowning his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey down at the hotel bar.

Slyde pulled open the closet door and looked at the open, and empty, hotel safe. He shook his head again. "Stupid," Slyde muttered.

The Rumboldi diamond was a flawless five karat stone that had perfect clarity. Bertoni, the owner of the white suit, had hired Slyde to steal it from a wealthy oil magnate after he had been contracted to do the exact same thing. Bertoni was a moron smalltime hood, but he was smart enough to know that he was in over his head when it came to snatching the diamond.

So Bertoni had hired Slyde, and Slyde had done his job perfectly. It wasn't his fault that someone had snagged the rock out from under Bertoni while the goomba had been trying to get his pencil wet in Miami.

As burglaries went, this one was pretty smooth. And he had the last word on smooth. The hotel cameras had picked up nothing, there were no witnesses, and no direct evidence was left by the thief, other than a hole in the window which had been the point of entry.

He would be hard-pressed to do a better job himself. There was only one aspect of the burglary that the thief couldn't have helped: the timeframe. Bertoni was only in Miami for a short time, which meant that the thief had a very limited window to get the diamond. A perfect robbery would take months to plan properly, meaning that Slyde was hopeful that a mistake had been made somewhere along the way. Even he couldn't get in and out that quickly without leaving some sort of trail.

A small electrical problem in the basement had taken up security's attention when the robbery took place. That told Slyde another very important thing: the thief was very careful. This was no quick hit. This was done by a professional.

Slyde strolled to the window and peered outside it. A standard entry. Nothing very special about it. He spotted another large building across the street and smiled. It was another hotel.

Whatever precautions the thief had taken to not be seen by this hotel's cameras, the cameras across the street were another matter entirely.

- o -

The Black Cat stalked across the rooftops of Miami's fishing district. Her silky white hair fluttered in the evening's wind and she enjoyed the casual breeze blowing down the neckline of her suit. The tight black leather was excellent to move in, but it did little to cool her off in this heat.

With a grace that begot her namesake, the masked Felicia Hardy somersaulted over the gap between warehouses and kept moving. Her lithe body moved swiftly and silently through the night, heading toward her destination. She had an appointment to keep and she did not intend to be late. Not when this could be one of the biggest paydays of her career.

She felt the rigid diamond against her skin, tucked safely between her breasts. It thrilled her to know that such an exquisite bauble was hers for the keeping, but as much as she liked diamonds, she needed to unload the rock quickly. She had stolen it from a thief, and being a thief herself, she knew that the man in white would come looking for it soon enough.

The Spider would chide her for being involved in this business again, but he couldn't argue that stealing from a crook was the same as stealing from some wealthy socialite. Besides, he wasn't in Miami. He was thousands of miles away, swinging through New York City, pounding on muggers.

It was a small market of buyers that could meet her price so quickly. The contacts she had made in the underworld during the pinnacle of her darker days were now few and far between, but the most important ones she had kept in her good graces. The ones with the deepest pockets, that is.

She reached the last rooftop and peered over the edge, down at the wharf below. The water was calm, especially for the breeze that was blowing. A small jet boat was harbored there, tied off to the wharf. It bounced lazily with the waves and two men stood in it, looking around nervously.

Guards, and inept ones at that. The first rule of being a bodyguard was to keep your cool. Their employer must have recently hired them, meaning that his trip down from New York City must have been a welcome distraction from whatever business conflicts he was involved with.

Conversely, the man who employed them was standing still on the boardwalk, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pinstripe suit. Two more nervous guards flanked him on either side and Felicia could tell from his body language that he wasn't happy.

Of course, every time she had bumped into Hammerhead he was always in a sour mood.

Deciding to make an entrance, the Black Cat slipped down over the side of the building by using the claws in her gloves to climb silently down to the boardwalk. She moved through the shadows until she was to the left of the criminal gang, hidden by a stack of shipping crates.

"Hello, boys," she said.

The bodyguards all jumped for their guns. Hammerhead held his hand up; a silent order to remain still. Four hands were stuffed into four jackets, with four itchy trigger fingers ready to start gunning for the Black Cat.

She stepped out from behind the crates and said, "Right on time. I like a man that respects punctuality."

Hammerhead smirked but it was brief. His face returned to the stoic sneer he was known for. His solid and flat head reflected the wharf's lighting oddly, and Felicia recalled a time when the two of them had more similar interests.

"Cat," he said. His voice was always low and rocky. "I'd say that seeing you is a welcome sight, but my priest would be upset with me for spinning lies."

"Is that any way to talk to a lady?"

"You ain't no lady, sugar," Hammerhead replied. "Not after the shit you pulled on Silvermane."

"You're not the type to be loyal to a boss, Hammerhead. Especially one that's in prison."

"Him and me had some serious cash rollin' off of a mutual operation. Now that cash flow is dried up, thanks to you. Without Silvermane my foreign handlers won't trade."

The Black Cat took stock of the situation. She wasn't happy where this conversation was headed and she didn't like being out in the open like this. "That why you came down to Miami?" she asked. "To get a little compensation for your losses?"

Hammerhead smirked again. "You wish, sugar. No, I came because I know that despite our history that you got the goods. You say you got something hot that needs unloading, then I believe you. Plus, I know you ain't stupid enough to try and do me like you did Silvermane. My boys here will see to that."

He motioned to the bodyguards. One of them flinched.

"I don't think your boys can handle me…_sugar_."

Hammerhead glanced at the closest guard and an obvious look of irritation swept over his face. "Yeah…well, they're new. The webhead has been cracking down on a few of my better operations, taking the pros down. I'm stuck with these mooks for now. 'Course, that don't mean they can't still pull the trigger. Know what I'm saying?"

"Economy is in the toilet, I get it. Well, with what I've got you can get that lost cash flow back easily."

"Show me the rock. I'll be the judge of that."

The Black Cat slowly walked directly toward Hammerhead. As she strolled she ran her fingers down her neck, allowing the back of her hand to caress her supple bosom. As she came within arm's reach of Hammerhead she slipped her fingers into her cleavage and removed the shining diamond, holding it up for Hammerhead to see.

The pseudo-burlesque show hadn't affected him in the slightest, but upon seeing the huge diamond a sparkle erupted in his eyes. His mouth opened and he couldn't help but stare.

He reached for it, but she pulled it back from him. "Uh-uh," she said. "Cash on delivery, as agreed."

"How do I know that's not glass?"

"Do you think I would waste your time for glass? Five karats. That buys a whole lot of bodyguards after you resell overseas."

Hammerhead snapped his fingers and one of the guards handed him a metal briefcase. "Your price is a little steep," he said.

"You'll make double back, easily. I know for a fact that a Russian named Chekoffski would pay at least that much."

"Then why come to me?"

"Let's just say that I don't want to do any international travel right now." She rolled the large diamond in her hand. "My price stands. Take it or leave it."

_Plink! Plink!_

The two guards on either side of Hammerhead slumped down to the boardwalk, lifeless. Hammerhead took an instinctive jump back and kneeled down, recognizing a sniper attack when he saw one. He held the metal case in front of his chest as a shield as his eyes scanned the area for the shooter.

"Dammit!" he hollered. "You were followed!"

The Black Cat took a step back from the chaos in front of her. She saw blood pooling under the two dead guards, staining the wooden boardwalk a deep crimson. She was sure that she hadn't been followed. There was no possible way for someone to track her down. She had only arranged this meeting thirteen hours ago. Everything was happening so fast.

"Start the boat, you idiot!" Hammerhead called out. "We've leaving! Now!"

The other two guards on the boat had their weapons drawn and moved to follow Hammerhead's orders. One stepped behind the helm and the other went for the rope that tied the ship to the wharf.

_Plink! Plink!_

The one that had been reaching for the rope splashed into the cold, dark water. The driver slumped over onto the wheel. Hammerhead's face twisted into surprise and then he stared down the Black Cat with fury lacing his eyes.

"You dumb bitch!" he screamed. "You call me out here so you can finish what you started with Silvermane? Huh?"

"What? That's insane!"

"I'll kill you! Your sniper friend better be a good shot, because ain't nothing going to put me down until I strangle you!"

Hammerhead leapt for the Black Cat, swinging the metal case like a club. She sprung into a series of back flips that placed her out of harm's way, behind the crates that she had been crawling behind earlier. Things were getting too intense for her. She needed to hit the rooftops again and flee the scene before she ended up in the drink like Hammerhead's guards.

_Plink!_

Hammerhead rocked to one side as a bullet bounced off of his scalp. The adamantium encasement that had replaced the top of his skull years ago had saved his life, at least for the time being. The force of the sudden impact knocked him off his feet, however, and the Black Cat found herself taking a step toward him out of habit.

She stopped herself. What was she doing? She needed to get out of there, not lend a hand to a former employer who would sooner see her dead.

The woozy but unharmed Hammerhead got back up onto one knee and his line of sight instantly focused onto his attacker, who had come out of the shadows. The Black Cat couldn't see who it was, but she heard a strange whooshing sound come from the other end of the boardwalk.

She crouched low behind the crates and saw Hammerhead shove his hand into his jacket. It came back out with a silver pistol that had been hanging on his shoulder holster. He leveled the weapon at someone out of her sight and fired once. He swore, and fired again.

What she found odd was how far he had to shift his aim between the shots. His arm had moved from one side of his body to the other. Was his attacker really moving that fast to have covered so much ground between shots?

The Black Cat moved to the other side of the stack of crates to get a better look at Hammerhead's target. She recognized the man instantly and knew that she had been wrong in hesitating to leave.

The thief called Slyde swiftly skated over the boardwalk as if it were an ice rink. His suit was specifically designed to resist friction's hold over him, allowing him to glide seamlessly over any surface. The Black Cat had heard stories about Slyde, and they were fairly amazing. He had stolen things she wouldn't have dared taken a run at, and he had even gone a few rounds with the Spider.

She glanced at the bodies floating in the water and reasoned that he had widened his scope of practice. He wasn't a simple thief. He was a killer.

By shifting his momentum from left to right, Slyde gracefully swept over the boardwalk. The soles of his feet, covered by the frictionless material that encased his body, slid flawlessly over the otherwise rough wooden boards. He moved with enough speed to throw off Hammerhead's accuracy: by the time the gangster had drawn a bead on him and pulled the trigger, Slyde was moving in another direction.

In both of his hands Slyde gripped a pair of customized Berettas, equipped with silencers. The soft _plinks!_ of his return fire peppered the boardwalk at Hammerhead's feet, driving the gangster back toward the boat.

Even though Slyde was nearly impossible to hit, it looked as though he had to sacrifice his own accuracy while moving so swiftly. He had a sword resting on his back for when he got in close, but the Black Cat had no intention of letting him get near enough to use it against her.

She hopped atop the crates and flung her hand out toward Hammerhead. A spring-loaded grappling hook launched out of her glove at the wrist, latching onto the handle of the metal case that the gangster was using as a makeshift shield. At his protest, the Black Cat ripped the case free from Hammerhead and retracted the cable back into her hand.

The case was heavy with cash, and she had no intention of leaving it behind, regardless of the danger that Slyde presented.

She didn't know why he was involved, only that he would be coming after her. Sure enough, as soon as she leapt onto the side of the building that she had first crawled down, Slyde shifted his momentum and was heading straight for her.

Her free hand dug into the brick wall, using her claws to gouge out holds to use for climbing. Years of on the job experience had made her an exceptional climber, even with a handicap weighing her down. Without looking at the incoming villain, the Black Cat skittered up the side of the building back to the rooftop.

A chunk of mortar and brick exploded just beside her ankle as she crawled over the lip of the roof. Hammerhead clicked away with his weapon, pulling the trigger again and again even though his gun was depleted of ammunition. He swore that if he ever got the Cat back in his scope again that he wouldn't hesitate to take her down.

Felicia didn't hesitate this time. She just ran, briefcase in tow. She heard the now familiar whooshing of Slyde getting closer. As she plunged along the rooftop, she moved closer to the edge so that she could peer over as she ran.

_Plink! Plink! Plink!_

The rooftop's edge exploded, showering her with bits of concrete. The shots were too shallow to reach her and instead were lodged into the overhanging lip of the roof. She was lucky that it hadn't been her head.

The dark-suited Slyde was keeping pace with her on the ground, sliding effortlessly parallel to her. He caught sight of her in his gray goggles and leaned into his next turn, entering the mouth of an upcoming alley.

The Black Cat leapt over the opening between two buildings, gracefully landing on her toes. As she passed over the alleyway she saw that Slyde was beneath her. He leapt off the ground and skated up the inside of the alley, sliding directly up toward her, defying gravity itself.

She kept running as she heard the whooshing directly behind her. Slyde had made it to the rooftop and was coming for her. She rounded a tight corner behind a stairwell entrance and ducked down for cover. She focused on the sound of his movements and knew precisely how fast he was approaching her.

The Black Cat leapt up and snapped her foot out, catching Slyde just under the chin as he came around the corner. He reacted by leaning backward, away from the kick, even though his legs kept skating in the direction he had been going. His balance was perfect and he maintained the awkward backward bend as he continued to move forward.

She felt her foot barely connect with his jaw, although the slickness of his suit caused her strike to simply glide off of him. It was seemingly better than rolling with the hit, which he had done anyway by leaning away from the kick. She wondered if it would even be possible to land a killing blow on him while he was inside that suit.

Slyde pivoted his foot, which caused his skating to abruptly end. He whirled around to face her as he regained his full height, instantly drawing both of his modified Berettas on her.

She threw up both her hands in mock surrender. She had an idea, and if it worked, then she wouldn't have to worry about running away anymore. The metal case dangled on her fingers in one hand, and in the other, was a the sparkling diamond.

"Hold up a second, slick," she said. "I've got an offer for you."

"Just hand over the diamond," Slyde said.

"First tell me how you found me. Out of respect for a fellow thief."

She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him scoff from behind his full face mask. "I've heard a lot about you over the years," he replied. "Always thought we would meet trying to rob the same place. Never assumed that I would be tracking you down from a neighboring hotel's surveillance footage."

"If I hadn't been short on time you wouldn't have seen even that much."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. The guy had it coming. A hotel safe? Please. He was asking to lose the rock. When I heard that Hammerhead was coming to town, I followed him, figuring he would lead me to you."

"And you knew I was the one that had the diamond, which is why you chased me instead of finishing off Hammerhead."

"Chrome-dome will understand. He knows I don't really want him dead. It's just business, and he respects business. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if I get a job offer from him because of tonight. He's like that."

The Black Cat smirked. "Yes, he is. And do you know what I'm like?"

Slyde thumbed back the hammer on his Berettas. "I've heard a few things," he said. "Just drop the diamond on the ground and step back. I'm not interested in whatever you're offering, unless it involves more skin then you're showing now."

She chucked him the shimmering stone. He slipped one of his Berettas into a side holster and caught it, although his other hand didn't even waver for a moment. He inspected the diamond and then looked back at her. "I don't get it," he said. "You're just handing it over?"

"I have what I came for." She shook the briefcase. "My price was met. What do I care if Hammerhead didn't get exactly what he paid for? He still paid for it. Do whatever you want with the diamond."

"And you expect me to just let you go?"

"Why wouldn't you?" she replied. "You have what you came for. The money is mine, fair and square. Or…is honor among thieves a dead notion? It's easier this way. No mess."

Slyde looked at the diamond again and then back at the Black Cat. After a handful of heartbeats, which threatened to coat Felicia in nervous sweat, he finally lowered his weapon. He holstered is on his hip and placed the five karat stone into a belt compartment.

"Like I said, just business," Slyde drawled. "I heard you were a wild card. You got class, Cat."

Slyde pushed back slightly with one foot and began to drift away from the Black Cat. He stood completely still, yet his momentum carried him across the roof and back into the darkness. Just before he turned to flee, he nodded and mock saluted her. Then he slipped over the side and she heard the whooshing of his fleeing down the side of the building to the street.

The breath she had been holding gratefully expelled from her lungs. She looked at the case full of unmarked bills in her grasp and smiled. Hammerhead was going to come for her eventually, but until then she had plans for this money.

Thankfully, the criminal element wasn't as merciless as some people assumed. As a thief she had been known to live by her own rules, but there was always one rule that she would never break. It looked as though Slyde lived his life the same way.

- o -

Felicia unwrapped the towel from her head and let it fall to the floor. She slid into the leather lounge chair, enjoying the feeling of the cool fabric against her naked skin. Most hotels offered free wi-fi internet access, along with a desk for business associates to work at. Her laptop gratefully picked up the signal, allowing her to float through cyberspace from the comfort of her penthouse suite.

She had showered the moment she had returned from the bank, wanting to metaphorically wash away the events that had led to this transaction. She felt a chill as the air conditioning kicked on, but didn't bother to retrieve so much as a blanket to cover her exposed body.

She instead tapped away at the keyboard of the laptop, accessing her online banking account. She saw that the money had been added to her account instantly as the bank teller had promised. With a few keystrokes she transferred half of the total sum into a charity account.

She closed the laptop, stretched her arms, and smiled. Bruno Kreah, her late partner that had met an untimely fate, had been a decent man. She had only ever really known him as the voice in her ear that set up her client assignments, but occasionally they had discussed their personal lives. Bruno was a true bleeding heart, as he had let slip once that he regularly volunteered as a bell-ringer for the Salvation Army. It was important work to him, and his tone of voice had implied that he was proud to help collect money for those that really needed it.

Whoever was in charge of managing the anonymous online donations was going to have a heart attack in the morning. Half of the money from Hammerhead's briefcase was now going to be used to help the kind of people that Bruno made it a point to help, and it was no pocket full of change thrown in a red kettle.

She supposed that she probably should have donated the entire amount…but she was a thief, not a saint.

- o -

**end**


End file.
